On vacation to the Black Hills. Diabetes came with, too.Last weekend I got the chance to finally attend a performance of my niece, Brianna, in Brandon, SD. It helps that she is now 6 hours closer to us, but mainly I wanted to go because that little girl is now a junior in high school. I blinked and she grew up. I hate it when that happens. I see it happening with my own kids, too.
Little Leah is finally (FINALLY) sleeping in her own bed. Cole is finally (FINALLY) sleeping through the night. And Chase is making big decisions like deciding to stay home with Gary while Leah, Cole and I head out of town (and drive through a town with a Toys R Us without him).
Rarely have I made a trip without Chase in tow, so I was excited to not have to pack the insulin, test strips, glucometer, pump set changes, IV prep wipes, second skin dressing, fruit snacks, and emergency glucagon needle. I was happy to have a vacation from diabetes. Then like a cosmic 2 x 4 to the head, I reminded myself that Chase gets no vacation from diabetes.
Lately I see it taking its toll on my little boy. This is difficult because he doesn't complain about diabetes. Ever. A few weeks back, after a couple days of trying to figure out high blood sugars at lunch, I was asked, "My health annoys you, doesn't it?". Ugh. No, kid. Nothing about YOU annoys me. The same day Gary did a set change which caused some pain and got a, "That hurt, Dad. You've never had diabetes, have you?".
He's been so strong for so long. It was bound to happen and it hurts to see him hurt. Diabetes takes the fun out of being a kid. When your parents tell you that you can't eat that cookie before you test your blood, or you can't play a last minute game of Apples to Apples before bed until you test, it's no surprise to get a teary eyed "I hate diabetes!". Last night I told him I hate it, too. I said I can only imagine what it's like - to which I was told, "No you can't. You've never had it."
For the first two years of his life I was able to make things better. I was able to put a band aid on a boo-boo. I could nurse a cold or fever until it went away. I miss the days when a kiss from me had magical healing powers. I can't make things better. I can't make diabetes go away and that is why I hate this disease.
I can take a vacation. I wish Chase, could, too.
Little Leah is finally (FINALLY) sleeping in her own bed. Cole is finally (FINALLY) sleeping through the night. And Chase is making big decisions like deciding to stay home with Gary while Leah, Cole and I head out of town (and drive through a town with a Toys R Us without him).
Rarely have I made a trip without Chase in tow, so I was excited to not have to pack the insulin, test strips, glucometer, pump set changes, IV prep wipes, second skin dressing, fruit snacks, and emergency glucagon needle. I was happy to have a vacation from diabetes. Then like a cosmic 2 x 4 to the head, I reminded myself that Chase gets no vacation from diabetes.
Lately I see it taking its toll on my little boy. This is difficult because he doesn't complain about diabetes. Ever. A few weeks back, after a couple days of trying to figure out high blood sugars at lunch, I was asked, "My health annoys you, doesn't it?". Ugh. No, kid. Nothing about YOU annoys me. The same day Gary did a set change which caused some pain and got a, "That hurt, Dad. You've never had diabetes, have you?".
He's been so strong for so long. It was bound to happen and it hurts to see him hurt. Diabetes takes the fun out of being a kid. When your parents tell you that you can't eat that cookie before you test your blood, or you can't play a last minute game of Apples to Apples before bed until you test, it's no surprise to get a teary eyed "I hate diabetes!". Last night I told him I hate it, too. I said I can only imagine what it's like - to which I was told, "No you can't. You've never had it."
For the first two years of his life I was able to make things better. I was able to put a band aid on a boo-boo. I could nurse a cold or fever until it went away. I miss the days when a kiss from me had magical healing powers. I can't make things better. I can't make diabetes go away and that is why I hate this disease.
I can take a vacation. I wish Chase, could, too.
